An Unwanted Return
by rikubean
Summary: AU, postmusical. Glinda seals away her heart after Elphaba passed. She's not opening up to anyone or anything. What happens when Dorothy makes an unexpected visit? Rated for dark content.
1. Preface

**A/N: This just came to me when I was on vacation. It's pretty AU, so don't kill me for my portrayal of Glinda. I was pretty ticked off when the idea popped into my head.**

**An Unwanted Return**

_Preface _

The clock loomed in front of the couple, the best and worst thing in their lives at the moment. Two red pinpricks were the only source of light, the Dragon's eyes. The pair stood far from any civilization.

"We can never return to Oz, can we?" the woman asked in a raw, sorrowful voice.

"No. Not if we want to be save," the man replied. Unlike his companion, his tone was resigned.

"I just wish…" she trailed off, unsure if she were simply being silly.

"What?"

"…that Glinda cold know we were alive…"

* * *

Glinda the Good sat on the floor of her chamber, oblivious to the celebration right outside her window. She clutched a pointed black hat. Next to her lay an ancient leather-bound book, the Grimmerie. Glinda looked to the book with undisguised loathing.

"Stupid spellbook," she mumbled through her tears, "has to ruin everything… doing just fine before… don't need this…" Glinda stopped her mutterings. She was driving herself insane.

_I won't,_ Glinda thought forcefully. _I won't dwell. Ozians need me. I will _not _let them down._

She collapsed again, doubled over, her arms wrapped tightly around herself, as if she could hold in her breaking heart. She gasped for air. She felt as if she we literally drowning in her own sorrow.

Glinda looked up at her tearstained face in the vanity mirror. Her normally pale cheeks are red and blotchy. Mascara ran down her face in waves. It was then that she stopped crying, stopped _feeling _altogether. Glinda embraced the gentle numbness that enveloped her. She let herself slowly relax. She wasn't ready to completely let go of her pain, nor did she want to have a constant heartache for the rest of her life.

Soon, all Glinda felt was nothing. A vast void of nothingness, much like the void she knew Elphaba had disappeared into.

Elphaba Thropp was dead, but that didn't mean Glinda Upland had to die alongside her.


	2. Chapter 1

**An Unwanted Return**

_Chapter One _

The night Glinda closed off her heart, she closed herself off from Oz. Sure, the Ozians saw the wonderfully Good Ruler she pretended to be, but they never saw the steely glint in her eye, heart the sharp, raw edge to her voice, saw her frantic letters to no one.

Glinda could see the changes. The tiny shard of a heart she had left shrank back from this new her. However, her numbed self thrived in her new position. She spent several sleepless nights reading up on the Wizard and Nessarose's politics. She would rule with an iron fist, yet she would appear as if she were not doing so. Her people saw her as a beautiful and merciful leader; her maids saw her as cruel and ruthless. The latter were too terrified of the consequences to reveal their thoughts about the great Ruler.

Glinda's true feelings only broke through on the anniversary, hidden safely away in the Emerald Palace, facing the West.

"Elphie…" she whimpered, her hand and forehead resting against the cool glass. "Elphie, look at me. Look at what I've done…"

_Dear Elphaba, _she thought out, not reaching for a pen.

_Today marks exactly a year since you left me. I hope _you're _happy, as there is no joy left for me. You've taken everything away with you. I can't seem to stop writing to you, even though I know it's pointless. A dead woman cannot receive letters._

_One question bothers me, "Why?" Why did you do it? You needn't have surrendered. You still had the Animals… you had me. Was your life just so miserable that you just chose death over flying to safety? _Why,_ Elphaba?_

_Why?_

_Signed,_

_Glinda Upland_

Glinda sighed and wiped the tears off of her face. Tomorrow was another day. She need not have a sleepless night.

**

* * *

**

Dorothy sat glumly in her farmhouse. She twirled her spoon through the tasteless porridge that was her supper. The truth was, it was the best mean they'd had all week.

The farm hadn't fared well when Dorothy returned from Oz. It was as if the Wicked Witch had cursed Dorothy when she melted. Dorothy tapped her fingers against the sides of the bowl. Truth be told, she wasn't hungry. She decided to give up tying to eat and took the porridge to Uncle Henry, who was sick in bed.

Dorothy was unsure exactly what was wrong with her uncle. The doctors said there was something growing on his brain, and it would be fatal to try and remove it. He was in constant pain; the migraines never let up. He was extremely irritable.

More then anything, Dorothy wished she were back in Oz. Oz had no troubles when she'd left. The Wicked Witches were gone, Glinda the Good ruled. Dorothy caught herself fantasizing about getting a cure for her uncle.

No, if she went to Oz, she was not coming back.

**

* * *

**

She slept fitfully that night, dreaming of falling houses and agonized screams, and ferocious cackling. She awoke suddenly, gasping for breath. As she blinked the sleep from her eyes, she realized that she wasn't in her bedroom. The garden around her had flowers so bright and colorful that they could only be from Oz.

Dorothy was back, the ruby slippers gleaming like blood crystals on her feet.

**

* * *

**"Lady Glinda?" a maid called hesitantly. "Lady Glinda, Miss Dorothy Gale came back from Kansas. She was discoverated in the Rose Gardens. She wishes to see you. Will you receive her in the Throne Room?" 

"No," Glinda said hollowly. "No, send her up." She smiled grimly before getting up and heading to the bathroom to prepare herself.

Her blonde curls were only slightly matted, that could be easily fixed. She grabbed a washcloth and washed her face before applying her make-up. She fluffed out her hair and changed into a glittery pink dress.

Now she would wait.

Glinda knew that the maids would entertain Dorothy long enough to give Glinda time to get presentable. It wouldn't be long now.

She heard tentative footsteps outside her door. "Come in," she called before they had time to knock.

Dorothy entered her room, the door closing behind her. "It's good to see you, Lady Glinda," she said, curtseying.

Glinda stared back at the girl. _This_ was what had become of Elphaba's murderer? _This _was the girl whose house had killed Nessarose? This girl was just a frightened girl! There was nothing about her that would make you think she would kill to get back home. No, that was wrong. There _was _something. A slight haunting look to the eyes, ever so slight, yet still there.

"Miss Dorothy," Glinda acknowledged her with a slight nod of her head. "What brings you back to my lovely Land of Oz?"

Dorothy stared at her feet. "I wanted to come back," she said slowly. "My farm's crops failed this year. Me and my Aunt Em and Uncle Henry were starving… Then Uncle Henry got sick."

"Go on," Glinda encouraged, as if she actually cared.

"Aunt Em stayed with him all day," the girl continued quietly. "I had to do the chores around the farm on my own. Uncle Henry was angry all day, so visiting him wasn't any fun. Aunt Em got mad that I didn't visit my uncle enough, so I was punished." She looked up, a fire blazing in her eyes. "So I wished to leave. I wished real hard. Then I woke up in the garden."

Glinda nodded. "I see… Tell me, were you wearing Nessarose's magicked shoes to bed, in the hopes that you could return?"

"Nessarose?" Dorothy's brow furrowed. "Who's that?"

The blonde mentally cursed herself for her slip. "I apologize, slip of the tongue. The ruby slippers, were you wearing the ruby slippers?"

Dorothy nodded slowly, still confused. "Lady Glinda, who is Nessarose, if I may ask?"

"You may not," Glinda replied, her voice suddenly sharp. "It's ancient history."

The girl's eyes widened. She'd never seen this side to Glinda before. What else had changed? She changed the subject quickly. "What happened to my friends? The Scarecrow, the Cowardly Lion, and the Tinman?"

"The Scarecrow is gone from the public eye," the Good Witch replied slowly. "I have no idea where he is, but no one has seen him since you left. The Tinman is living in Munchkinland, serving as governor. I don't know what became of the Lion, only that he was seen in the forest but also the Animal village." Her tone was clipped, all business.

"Oh," Dorothy said softly. She suddenly felt very awkward.

Perhaps sensing this, Glinda said, "Are you hungry? You look as if you haven't eaten in days. Follow me, I'll get you a decent meal from the kitchens." She rose, an air of authority surrounding her. Dorothy felt as if she had no choice but to follow.

Glinda pretended not to notice her servants shrink back in fear as she passed. Dorothy did not understand what was wrong. Was it her? What had happened to the Good Witch since she had left? She seemed utterly perfect, and perfectly good, when she'd greeted Dorothy at her smashed farmhouse. Was this Nessarose the Wicked Witch of the East? But that couldn't be right; Wicked Witches were just that: Witches. They had no name, no true family. _But what about the Witch of the East's sister, the Witch of the West? _A little voice nagged. _They were family, and you tore them apart._ No, she couldn't have. _The Witches of East and West were their own little family, and _you_ killed them. Murdered them before they even had a chance._

"No… No…" Dorothy whimpered.

"Hmmm? Did you say something?" Glinda's voice snapped Dorothy's thoughts in two.

"No," the girl replied quickly. Her own thoughts scared her.

The blonde continued to lead Dorothy through a maze of emerald passageways until they finally reached the kitchens. "I want a proper breakfast prepared for my self and Miss Dorothy. Is that understood?"

Several fearful-looking maids nodded, quickly obeying Glinda's demands. "Now," the Good Witch said, turning to face Dorothy. "Why exactly did you wish to come to Oz in the first place? Do you seek help?"

"Well… no," the girl replied slowly. "It's just that… Oz has no troubles, and—" She was cut off by a bitter bark of laughter from Glinda.

"Is that what you think?" she asked, the laughter still ringing throughout the room. "I don't know _what_ world you're living in, but it sure isn't reality." Her cruel, mocking tone cut right through Dorothy.

"What do you mean?"

Glinda wished she hadn't said anything at all. "That's not your concern," she said at last. "My business is my business."

"But, Lady Glinda, maybe I can help?" Dorothy asked, hopeful.

The blonde fixed Dorothy with a hollow stare, her azure eyes dead, without the sparkle they had had at their last meeting. "There is _nothing_ you can do. You don't understand. You _can't_ understand. You're just a child!"

Before the girl could respond, the cooks placed a dish full of bacon, eggs, sausage, and other things she couldn't identify in front of her. They bowed and retreated to the hall.

"Eat, it'll do you good," Glinda said, picking up her own fork.

"But—"

"_Eat._"

* * *

**A/N: End chapter one. I'll try to regularly update. This story's easer to write then my others, probably because I took the time to make an outline. Anyways, leave a review and let me know what you think.**


	3. Chapter 2

* * *

**An Unwanted Return **

_Chapter Two_

The day passed slowly for Glinda. She wanted Dorothy _gone_, but the brat had no intentions to leave. The blonde's barely concealed anger grew by the clock-tik. She was amazed at how thickheaded someone could be. It was clear Dorothy was not welcome in her palace, yet she couldn't be completely frank with her. It was like scolding an adorable puppy that followed you home, staring up at you with large hazel eyes.

Glinda twitched her mouth into a smile that was more of a grimace. "_What?_" she snapped as she felt a light tapping on her shoulder.

"M-Miss Gale w-wishes to see you in the l-library," the maid said, eyes wide.

"Fine," the Good Witch growled, heading off in the opposite direction.

"Lady Glinda," Dorothy said, standing from her armchair to curtsey before sitting right back down.

"Dorothy." Glinda barely inclined her head to the farmgirl, regarding her as a mere annoyance.

"Am I not allowed in here?" the girl asked fearfully, "because I can leave if—"

"You are allowed," the blonde growled. "Stay away from the bookshelf along the back wall, those volumes are private." In truth, the back wall contained books questioning good and evil—the books Elphaba had enjoyed reading—and Glinda did not want Dorothy spoiling the pages with her grubby fingers.

"You don't like me, do you?" Dorothy asked, closing the book she had been flipping through. "What did I do? I didn't mean to do whatever it is that I did, really."

Glinda closed her eyes tightly. _Yes you did! You _did_ mean to do what you did!_ her mind screamed. _You can _never_ undo what you've done! _But she didn't say these things outloud. She couldn't say it. She was bound by a promise not to reveal the truth of what Dorothy had done. Of course, the person whose wishes she was respecting could never know if that promise were broken…

"What did I do?" the brat repeated.

_Breathe, Glinda,_ Glinda thought. _She doesn't know. Inhale. Exhale. Calm down. Your "Good" image is already on the verge of shattering. Pull yourself together! _

"You wouldn't understand," the blonde said at last, opening her eyes.

Dorothy crossed her arms stubbornly. "Try me."

The Good Witch willed herself not to give this girl a much-needed tongue-lashing.

"Lady Glinda? You can trust me."

"Are you a girl or a Mule in disguise?" Glinda snapped. "I told you, you wouldn't understand! Do you hear what I'm saying?"

"But—"

"I said no!"

_Tell her,_ a voice hissed. _Tell her that she is the cause of your best friend's death. Torture her with the knowledge. Make her beg for forgiveness._ Glinda smiled cruelly. She almost complied with the voice's wishes. Almost.

Dorothy shrank back from Glinda's smirk. "Why? Can you at least tell me why?"

The blonde's shoulders fell. There was that word again. "Why? Why would you even _want _to know?" Glinda screeched.

"Because… because…" The stupid brat didn't even have a reason! Glinda's temper flared, her patience almost gone.

"Because it's causing you pain," Dorothy finally said. "I feel like I've hurt you and I don't even know why." Her voice broke. "I really do want to help."

Glinda's shell was melting. Her feelings were starting to leak through. She couldn't let that happen. "No," she growled. "Stop it! You're making it worse!" She massaged her temples, trying to get the needling voice to stop goading her to taunt this girl.

"What? What's worse?" Dorothy asked, alarmed. "Do you need anything?"

"Water," the blonde gasped. "Just get me water."

Dorothy ran out of the library, as fast as she was able.

Glinda collapsed into an armchair, breathing deeply, digging her nails into the wooden arms. "Just relax," she mumbled. "Calm down, she's gone." She got up and fled from the library.

_The parlor,_ she decided. _Or the attic…_ Glinda made a quick decision and opened up a passageway behind an emerald curtain and climbed the stairs upward.

Dorothy would never think to look up here. The blonde carefully closed the door behind her. She knew she couldn't run forever; she'd have to face Dorothy at dinner, unfortunately. But for now, she'd enjoy the quiet.

CRASH! 

"You have _got_ to be kidding me!" Glinda yelled, turning right back around. She stormed through the palace, towards where the sound had come from, raging and snarling at any unfortunate servants that got in her way.

"What's going on in here?" she demanded, finding herself in the kitchen. There was a large pile of pots and pans on the floor, anxious cooks hurriedly picking them up.

"Lady Glinda," one cook said with wide eyes. "I d-didn't hear you come in."

"That's probably because of the utter _racket _these pans caused!" Glinda yelled. "What in Lurline's name happened?"

"It was my fault, Lady Glinda," Dorothy said, stepping out from behind a cabinet. "I came in here to get a glass of water, and I tripped and fell into the stack of pots in the sink. I really am sorry."

The cooks shrank back in fear, completely terrified of Glinda's reaction.

The Good Witch took a deep breath. "I'm not angry," she said at last. "My headache was almost gone, and now it's back. I'm not entirely pleased."

"Lady Glinda, it was an accident," one of the maids pleaded. "She was trying to hurry. Said somthin' 'bout needin' ta help ya, ya'd had some kinda fit."

Glinda flushed. "I'm fine," she snapped, shooting Dorothy with a steely glare. "Get this mess cleaned up. _You_—" she pointed at Dorothy—"meet me in the parlor." She stalked off.

Several clock-tiks later, she waited impatiently in the parlor. _Where is that brat?_ she thought angerly. As if on cue, Dorothy bounded into the room.

"You wanted to see me, Lady Glinda?" she asked, hope shining in her eyes.

Glinda restrained herself from rolling her eyes. "Yes. That's why I _summoned_ you. Don't interrupt, dearie, it's not polite." She fixed the girl with her azure gaze. "Earlier, in the library, I didn't say some things that I probably should have."

"So I _did_ hurt you," Dorothy said, lowering her eyes.

"Yes… and no," the blonde responded slowly, her voice kinder then it had been in a long time.

"But how can it be—"

"I said don't interrupt," Glinda snapped, eyes blazing. "If you don't want me to continue, then just speak up now." She paused. Dorothy was silent. "So you do want to hear? Well then, you are the direct cause of the murder of my best friend."

"I… I did _what?_" the farm girl asked incredulously, her eyes wide as saucers.

"You heard me. You killed her yourself," the Good Witch went on. "Led a mob of Witch Hunters right to her castle door, you did. And all because you believed in the _Wonderful _Wizard of Oz!" She clapped her hands together in mock glee, completely ignoring the fact that Dorothy looked as if she might vomit. "And _who_ helped you get home? Not him, surely! But _me. _Me, whose friend's death was in the middle of being celebrated, and I get the complete joy of telling her murderer the answer to her dearest wish!"

"No, Lady Glinda, that can't be true!" Dorothy cried. "That would mean that you're friend was…" She gasped. "The Wicked Witch of the West!"

Glinda smiled grimly. "You're a clever girl, aren't you?"

"But… But…" the poor girl stuttered. "It can't be true!" she repeated.

"Too bad it is. It _is_ true," the blonde snapped. "You _did_ cause me my pain on purpose, simply a different purpose. It doesn't matter really. Elphaba Thropp is dead either way, and _you _caused it!" Glinda was surprised at the venom in her own voice.

"And then you come back to Oz all happy and merry and saying 'Oz has no troubles! I'll just run away from my uncles looming death and my aunt's punishments for my incompetence and go back to a happy land!'" The Good Witch's smile was cruel and mocking. "Did you _really_ expect to be welcomed with open arms? Because you killed a young woman with hopes and dreams and no fear of pursuing those hopes and dreams? _I was there, Dorothy._ I _heard_ her scream. It haunts me still. It echoes in my head day and night, night and day.

"The only escape was numbness. A blissful living of no feelings. Heartless. Much like your old tin friend, eh? Vengeance was the only thing on _his _mind. Sure, Elphaba turned him to tin, but it was _Nessarose_ who took away his heart. _Nessarose_ who kept him in Munchkinland—though I suppose that's a bit my fault, really."

"Lady Glinda?" Dorothy asked hesitantly. "What are you saying? That _I'm…_ That _I'm_ the one who should be named a Wicked Witch?"

"I wasn't thinking that at all!" Glinda replied. "But, now that you mention it…"

"You've gone mad!" Dorothy cried, flattening herself against the wall. "You've gone mad and you want to kill me!"

* * *

**A/N: And I'll stop there. I'm cruel, aren't I? -smiles innocently- What? You can't complain; I've uploaded three chapters in one day! Okay, seriously, don't expect normal updates this fast. I'd already had the preface and half of the first chapter written out in my notebook. This chapter took me a good six hours to write. So review, and it'll help me get my inspiration for later chapters.**


	4. Chapter 3

**A/N: I apologize for the wait. I went to Idlewild Park on Thursday to dance for the day, and yesterday my mom's friend came up from Florida.**

* * *

**An Unwanted Return**

_Chapter Three_

"'_You've gone mad and you're trying to kill me!'"_

Glinda's smile wavered. "Is that what you think? Because I'm finally letting some feeling loose? Because I'm telling the truth for once?"

Dorothy didn't drop her frightened stance.

The blonde sighed, forcing herself to drop some of her mental shields. The sudden rush of emotions was alarming at first, but she soon adjusted. "I'm not trying to kill you. I'm… trying to help myself. You're lucky; a year earlier and I really would have attacked you… You didn't know the date? Yesterday was the anniversary. It's been a year."

"No," Dorothy said softly. "It's been five months. Not a year."

Glinda shrugged. "For you, maybe. But it's been a year in Oz." At this remark, the girl was quiet. "I'm not myself, as you can tell… Why am I telling you this?" Cold, searing agony ripped through the Good Witch, forcing her to clutch her sides and sit down. She quickly welcomed her heartlessness.

"You don't care," Glinda growled coldly, fixing Dorothy with a deathly glare. "You might just think I was another Wicked Witch. The Wicked Witch of the North, I suppose. Forget all the good I've done and tried to do in memory of my only true friend. Forget what the Ozians would think about you. Forget that Oz would be thrown into turmoil."

"Lady Glinda!" Dorothy cried. "Lady Glinda, I don't think you're like the Wicked Witches. I think you're—"

"You're wrong," the blonde interrupted. "I _am_ like Elphie." She turned and stared out the window, glassy eyes reflecting the sunlight. "She changed me more then I realized. Nessa affected me, too…"

"'Elphie'?" Dorothy asked. "Are you going to tell me who these people are?"

"I wasn't planning on it, no." Seeing the look on the girl's face, she added, "but I suppose I have no choice. I can't tell you everything, mind—I can't even tell you why I can't tell you!" She laughed bitterly.

"Lady Glinda, are you in some sort of trouble?" the farmgirl asked.

"No," Glinda growled. "I'm not. I'm everywhere I'm supposed to be. My life is completely _perfect._" She snarled and spat the word "perfect."

"It can't be," Dorothy insisted. "If it was, you wouldn't be so… so… bitter."

"'Bitter'?" the blonde raged. "'_Bitter_'? Of course I'm bitter! There's no reason for me not to be! My only friend that mattered has been _murdered,_ and her murderer is right in front of me!"

"L…L-Lady Glinda?" a handservent asked, peeking her head into the doorway. "Is something the matter?"

"_No,_" Glinda screamed, leaping to her feet. "_Nothing_ is the matter with _me._ Begone!" She waved her hand at the door, and—much to Dorothy's amazement—the door slammed shut, the lock clicking.

"Oh, you like that little trick?" the Good Witch asked, turning to face the girl. "Just a simple burst of magickal energy, fueled by rage, frustration, sorrow, regret, loss, pain, you name it, I've felt it." She stormed over to one of the couches, gesturing that Dorothy should sit in the one opposite.

Dorothy sat down hesitantly. She was acutely aware of the fact that Glinda had locked out all the servants. If she tried anything, there was no one that could help her.

"You're safe for now," the blonde said. "I'm not going to hurt you at the moment. I just want to talk. I'm in a rather pleasant mood, considering."

"Considering what, exactly?"

"Did you not just hear my rant?" Glinda snarled. "Are you _that_ daft that you can't remember something that happened less then two minutes ago?"

"Oh," Dorothy said softly.

"Yes, 'oh,' as in 'I'm sorry, Lady Glinda, that I'm so…' Oh, I don't know, what's the word? 'Stupid,' perhaps? 'Unintelligent'?" the blonde mocked. "Do you _really _think I'm in the mood for this? Sweet Lurlina, you have _got _to start paying attention!"

"Lady Glinda, I—"

"Shut up!" Glinda snarled. "I'm sick of your excuses! I'm sick of my lies! I'll go announce to the Ozians that you're here. Then I want you to leave the palace. I _want_ you to, but that might be impossible…" She thought for a moment. "You know too much. I can't let you out of my sight… I can't stand having you _in_ my sight… Fine, you'll stay, but I don't want to see you except for dinner or a summons from me? Got that?"

Dorothy nodded fearfully.

"Leave me be," the blonde said, gesturing to the door. The lock clicked again. "Go, tell the maids I've given you the Blue Rooms. They're as far away from me as possible."

**

* * *

**

Dinner that night was almost unbearable. Dorothy kept trying to make polite conversation, which Glinda completely ignored. The cooks placed the plates on the table quickly, lingering at Dorothy's side, avoiding Glinda as much as their job allowed.

When dessert arrived, Dorothy confronted Glinda.

"Lady Glinda, what is your problem with me?" she asked.

"I don't have a problem," Glinda replied stonily.

"Yes, you do." The girl sighed. "You've ignored me throughout the entire meal."

"I have nothing to say," the blonde replied coldly.

"Well I do!" Dorothy snapped. "You're in here, in this palace, taking your anger out on me and the servants, when we didn't do anything to you!"

"We've been over this," Glinda responded in an annoyed tone. _Sweet Lurlina, how many times must I tell this little brat?_

"I don't believe you. I think you wanted to kill the Witch yourself. I think you're mad at me for taking the glory."

"_What?_" Glinda jumped to her feet, ready to attack Dorothy if she said another word on the matter.

"Yes, I know I'm right," Dorothy said. "You wanted the fame of killing the infamous Wicked Witch of the West and I took it from you!"

Glinda slapped Dorothy across the face. "Don't you _ever _say I wanted to kill her. Do you hear me?"

The girl fell silent, her cheek stinking where the Good Witch had struck. She knew it would turn into an ugly bruise.

"I said_ do you hear me?_" Glinda repeated, her anger fading slightly.

"Y-Yes, Lady Glinda," Dorothy mumbled.

"Good," the blonde sighed. "You should put some ice on that cheek."

The girl turned and ran from the dining room.

Glinda sat down and started eating her chocolate cake.

**

* * *

**

Dorothy ran to the kitchens. The cooks looked up fearfully, but they relaxed when they realized it was Dorothy, not Glinda.

"Oh, dearie me! What happened?" one assistant asked.

"Lady Glinda hit me," Dorothy mumbled.

"She didn't!" another cook cried.

"I know she's mean, but she's not _violent,_" the first servant remarked.

"It was my fault," Dorothy explained. "I tried to needle her for information, get her angry enough to let something slip…"

"Looks to me like 'er hand slipped, not 'er tongue," a gruff voice commented. The speaker turned out to be a butcher, if the bloodstained apron was anything to go by. "Name's Robian, miss. If'n ya ever need someone ta talk to, look fer me in the meat shed."

"I'm Dorothy," the girl said. "It's nice to meet you."

"O' course yer Dorothy!" Robian laughed. "Ev'ry Ozian knows you!" He was still laughing on his way out the door.

Dorothy smiled, a move that hurt her bruised face. She had found a friend in Oz at last.

**

* * *

**

Glinda stalked off to her chambers after she finished her cake. _Honestly, the little brat. She's staying in _my_ palace and she goes and _insults_ me! Who does she think she is? There's no reason she should even be here! She has _got _to go! _She looked to her desk, needing to vent her anger before she attacked anything else.

_A letter… I'll write another letter._ Glinda thought. She sat down at the desk, picking up the fountain pen.

_Dear Elphaba, _she wrote.

_I can't take it anymore! That wretched little farm brat is here! Here, in __my__ palace! The nerve of her! She waltzes into Oz, spewing some sob story about how __you__ cursed her and her farm failed, her uncle got sick, her aunt screams at her… Like I even care! All the while I put up with this crap, she turns up in the library, asking what she did to me!_

_Honestly, Elphaba, she said she didn't mean whatever it was she did. I can't put up with this complete __imbecile__ any longer! I don't know __how__ you put up with her in Kiamo Ko. If there's a secret to putting up with her, I'm completely missing it._

_Dinner with her was a treat. You would have been proud, Elphaba, I kept my head until dessert. Mind, I didn't respond to anything she said, but that's better then snapping. Oh, but during dessert she voiced this crazy idea that I hated her because she killed you first! She said that I was only mad that I didn't get the glory of killing the Wicked Witch of the West! As if I don't feel guilty enough for my role in your death! As if I don't loathe myself for not assisting you when I had the chance! She is just so… so… URGH. I slapped that lying mouth without thinking._

_Dearest Fabala, I am so very sorry that she soiled your name. I am so sorry that your life had to end because of my giving her Nessa's shoes. I wish to every deity there is that I hadn't. You will always be the only friend that has ever mattered to me. I shall __never__ let something like this happen again. Mark my words, this will __not__ be the last Dorothy has heard of Glinda the Good. I swear on your grave, she will feel my wrath._

_With all my vengeance,_

_Glinda Upland_

Glinda stared at the parchment in front of her, feeling completely drained. She looked to the Western sky, the setting sun. "I will _not_ be made a fool of," she vowed. "The next time I won't hold my hand back at all." She smiled, thinking of the impact of her hand against that spoiled mouth, of Dorothy's face as she ran. No, Glinda the Good was no one to mess with.

* * *

**A/N: End chapter three. Again, I apologize for how long this took me. I really tried to get it up quickly.**


	5. Chapter 4

**A/N: I have no excuse for the huge gap in updates. This chapter is really short, I know, but it was put the short chapter up now or a longer one up next week. **

**An Unwanted Return**

_Chapter Four_

Dorothy planned to avoid Glinda like a plague the next day. Nightmares rang through her head all night, tormenting her with images of the Witch as she died. Only this time, she saw a heartbroken Glinda off to the side, sobbing uncontrollably. She saw looks of horror on her friends' faces—the Scarecrow looking depressed—the Lion looking like he might break through his cowardly bonds—all except the Tinman. The Tinman was laughing in her dream. Laughing like the heartless fool he was, taking more joy then necessary in the Witch's death. Everything was wrong and distorted. The Ozians looked more terrifying then she remembered.

Even her face in the morning looked wrong. The place Glinda had slapped had turned an ugly purple and green. Her eyes were red and puffy, though she didn't remember crying. Her braids hung raggedly off her head, matted and unwashed.

Sighing, Dorothy went into the washroom next door. She may as well look like the hero she pretended to be.

**

* * *

**Glinda tore apart her toast angrily. She was awoken rudely by Dorothy's yappy rat-dog-thing appearing on top of her and was instantly reminded of the brat's presence. The dog had been shoved off her bed roughly before she pushed it out her door. 

"Filthy little rodent," she muttered, spearing an egg. "Comes out of nowhere, gets slobber all over my face."

Glinda looked up as a delighted squeal came from the hallway, followed by some annoying barking. _So she found the mutt, then,_ she thought.

Dorothy bounded into the kitchen, the dog at her heels.

"I see you found Dodo," Glinda commented dryly.

"Yes, _Toto_ came to find me!" the girl squeaked. "Isn't he wonderful."

"A wonderful _rat_ maybe," the blonde murmured.

Dorothy seemed not to hear, asking for some food for Toto.

"I will not have that monstrosity in my palace!" Glinda slammed her fork down on the table. "It will stay _outside_ or in the barn."

"But, Lady Glinda, it's Toto!" Dorothy exclaimed. "He never hurt nobody."

"I don't care who it is," Glinda snapped. "It's a filthy animal. I only allow Animals to stay inside. The animals stay outside or in the barn!"

"You just said animals stay inside, and animals stay outside," Dorothy pointed out, confused. "Which is it."

"No, I said _Animals_ stay inside and _animals_ stay outside," the Good Witch snapped. "_An_imals are different from animals." She put more emphasis on the capital letter, hoping the girl wasn't as stupid as she looked.

"Lady Glinda, you're not making any sense at all."

"Yes I am!" Glinda insisted. "You know nothing of Oz, do you? Did you think the Cowardly Lion was the only talking Animal? There are many, many Animals in Oz—though not as many as there once was." She sighed.

"Wait, Toto is a talking animal?" Dorothy asked, staring down at her dog.

"No, it's not," Glinda snarled. "Keep it out of my palace and away from me. If I see that rat again, you can bet you won't."

Dorothy let out a frightened yelp, picked up her mutt and ran out the back door.

"Good riddance," the Good Witch muttered, tearing her toast into smaller pieces.

Today was the day Glinda was going to announce Dorothy's presence. She did so just before lunch.

"Fellow Ozians," she began in a voice so sugar-y sweet it made her want to gag. "I have _wonderful_ news! Our savior, Dorothy Gale, has returned to Oz!" There was a loud cheer at this remark. Glinda silenced them with a raise of her hand. She motioned for Dorothy to come out on the balcony with her.

"Th-Thank you," the girl said quietly, her blush not showing through the heavy make-up she was wearing to hide her bruised face.

The crowd roared again. Their cheers didn't stop until Glinda quieted them again. "A formal welcoming is indeed in order. Tonight there will be a formal ball held in Miss Dorothy's honor! Everyone invited will be sent an emerald invitation between now and then! I will see you there, my wonderful Ozians!" She grinned brightly before turning on her heel and heading back into her chamber, practically dragging Dorothy behind her.

"Miss Dorothy!" Glinda huffed. "You have to get ready for your public appearance!"

Dorothy flinched at Glinda's tone. She was acting like she used to, completely nice and normal.

The blonde shoved Dorothy into her rooms, throwing several gowns at her. "No, no that doesn't go with you…" she muttered, throwing sever "rejects" aside. She finally settled on a deep blue dress.

"Put that on and the maids will help you with your make-up!" Glinda called, heading to her own rooms.

Glinda tore through her wardrobe, looking for a special box at the bottom. She needed Elphaba's presence to make it through the night. Finally, she found it, tucked carefully in the back corner. She pulled the lid off. Inside were her most prized possessions: a hat, a bottle, and a book...

**

* * *

**The ball passed in an angry haze. Glinda smiled and waved as if she supported Dorothy and her actions. Things went smoothly, however. Dorothy's heavy make-up wasn't noticed, the servants kept their mouths shut. 

Dorothy seemed to be a little unnerved by all the attention she was getting. After all, all she had done, really, was throw water at the Witch because her skirt had caught fire. She hadn't really meant to kill her. But the act was done, and there was no way Dorothy could deny it.

**A/N: I appologize again for this shortness! It's a whole page and a half less (on MS Word) then I like to have before I post.**


	6. Chapter 5

**A/N: My only excuse for my lack of updates is that I've been in a good mood. Sad and pathetic as it is, I can't write when I'm happy… I'd just end up with plotless fluff or mindless angst. (Though I _do _like angsty Glinda fics for some reason…) **

**Anyway, I had to re-cap some things in the middle because I was trying really hard just to get this chapter finished.**

**Thanks to CardboardCreative for giving me the idea, even if I used your comment loosely.**

**An Unwanted Return**

_Chapter Five_

Glinda's temper was at an all-time low. The silliest things set her off—from Toto's constant barking to her tea being a degree colder then she liked. She kept herself trained on her work. Some important Munchkinlanders would be coming into the city, and Glinda needed to make sure they would be ready for them.

Dorothy would disappear for hours on end—not that Glinda was complaining—and would show up covered in dog hair and straw and stinking of raw meat. She never told anyone where she had been, though all the servants seemed to know.

On Dorothy's fourth night in Oz, she was summoned to talk to Glinda for the first time since the ball.

"You wanted to see me, Lady Glinda?" she asked, unsure what mood the Good Witch was in at the moment.

Glinda bit back a sarcastic remark and calmly said, "Yes, sit down." She paused. "As you are no doubt unaware, there will be some high-standing political leaders present in the palace tomorrow."

"… And what does that have to do with me?" the farmgirl asked.

"I can't have you scurrying off to Ozma-knows-where while they're here!" Glinda snapped. "Your attendance to the meetings was requested—though why I have no idea. However, you have the right to decline. Keep in mind that this offer is not to be taken lightly."

Dorothy made a face. "I don't really…"

Glinda raised her eyebrows. "You don't want to go? I'll just have to tell them that you've got something better to do. They won't like that…"

"So I have to go?" the girl complained.

"No, it's your choice," the blonde replied shortly. "Now stop your whining; it's giving me a migraine."

"I'll go," Dorothy mumbled.

"Great." Glinda beamed. Guilting people into doing what she wanted was not a strongpoint of hers, and she was glad it had worked on Dorothy.

The girl was not happy. She could never say no to people. "Do… Do I have to wear another fancy ballgown?"

"Yes," the blonde snapped, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world—and to her it was. "Why wouldn't you?"

Dorothy mumbled something Glinda didn't quite catch. "What was that?"

"I said I don't like dressing up."

The Good Witch narrowed her eyes. "Think of it as putting on a public face," she growled. "Leave, I need peace."

The girl complied, keeping her back to the door until Glinda was out of sight.

Glinda sighed and stared wistfully out the window. If only she had left this all behind when she had had the chance. If only she had thought through her decisions, at that one moment in her life.

It seemed as if all Glinda did lately was think about the past. Think, and remember, all the things that couldn't be known. Sure, she had exploded some of the truth at Dorothy, but the girl had been used herself. The two were in mostly the same position, lost.

Glinda was completely unstable. The sudden loss of her fiancé followed closely by the loss of her best friend through her emotions into turmoil. Added to that dangerous mix was her resolve not to feel any of it. Plus Dorothy was not helping at all.

Dorothy was totally confused. Oz was supposed to be her escape, her happy land at the other side of the rainbow. Now it was her nightmare. Good Witches weren't supposed to be heartless. Magical lands weren't supposed to fight back.

But it happened. It was real, for both of them, no matter how much they wished to change it.

Ignorance was bliss, after all.

**

* * *

**

Glinda sighed, alone in her chamber. She leaned against her window, closing her eyes against the moonlight. "Elphie," she whimpered. She'd written yet another letter, to try and make something right.

_Miss Dorothy Gale,_ it read.

_I want to tell you everything. I want to be able to carry the weight of my own emotions. But I don't know if I can. I can't handle that level of pain. I don't know what it will put my soul though. But I have to make this right_

_I hearby apologize for my behavior. I am ashamed to admit that I am not acting as a lady of my social status should. You do not have to attend the dinner with the representatives of Munchkinland; I will say you are not feeling quite well and get you out of it, if you so wish._

_Please, accept my apology. If you are willing to let a foolish blonde explain herself, meet me in the Rose Gardens for tea tomorrow at approximately Midday. You may refuse this offer._

_Yours,_

_Glinda Upland,  
__Good Witch of the North,  
__Ruler of Oz,  
__Deeply sorry._

It was a tremendous effort not to dissolve into tears after letting her emotion shields down in order to sound sincere. Perhaps Glinda had been the Terror from the North for long enough. Perhaps it was time to get a hold of her emotions, find a way to accept the horrible pain of loss.

The blonde sighed, staring back at the moon. Its harsh, cold light gave little comfort. It was the same light, night after night, that shone on Oz. The light that saw everything and said nothing.

Glinda blinked and a surprising wetness caressed her cheek. She put a hand to her face. The tears were real, a sure sign that her soul wasn't as dry and shriveled as she believed. The blonde smiled in earnest, she was coming back.

* * *

Glinda sat nervously at her favorite table in the Rose Gardens at noon the next day. She had no confidence that Dorothy would actually show up, yet she still arranged a small lunch for two.

"Lady Glinda?" Dorothy called.

"Over here," Glinda yelled back, standing.

The girl emerged from the direction of the barn, looking as if she had had to shut the dog inside.

"I didn't think you'd come," the blonde said softly.

"Why didn't you just summon me? You could've just demanded I show up."

"I… didn't want to," Glinda sighed. "I want you to know that you _do _have choices."

"Oh," Dorothy replied.

"Please, sit!" Glinda waved a hand at the empty chair across from her, taking her own seat once more. "You must have lots of questions—"

"Yes, I—"

"—and I can answer them after you've heard what I have to say." She paused. "Is that okay?"

"Sure." Dorothy fiddled with the end of one of her braids.

"Good." Glinda clapped her hands, signaling they were ready for their sandwiches and tea. When all was swerved, she dismissed the servants, saying she'd like to be alone with Miss Gale.

"Now, eat, don't be alarmed." The blonde turned her full attention to Dorothy. "What I'm about to tell you is completely true. I shall leave nothing out, no matter how ashamed I am to admit it." She launched into a full explanation of the events concerning the "Wicked Witch of the West" being created. Dorothy sat, stunned, as the facts she had been seeking were thoroughly explained.

"So you knew, all along, that the Wizard was a fake?" the girl asked.

Glinda nodded. "I'm afraid so. I was angry, you wouldn't believe how angry, when you showed up. I had to get revenge on Elphaba… I just didn't stop to think about what the Wizard would do to you. Never, in my wildest of moments, did I think he would have sent you to kill her…" She broke down at last, tears flowing freely down the perfect face, ruining the carefully applied mascara.

Dorothy awkwardly sat and watched Glinda cry. Adults just didn't lose it in front of her.

"It was the hardest at Kiamo Ko not to rip down that curtain and force the mob out of there," the blonde sniffed. "I p-promised I w-wouldn't tell them the truth."

"Do… do you hate me?" the girl asked hesitantly.

"I… No." Glinda looked up, staring directly into Dorothy's eyes. "No, I don't think so…"

"R-Really?" Dorothy was genuinely shocked at the brutal honesty Glinda was showing.

"I hate what you've done," she continued. "But most of all I hate that you had been the one to do it. Morrible and the Wizard had no right to proclaim the things they did, and you just wanted to get home."

"You're not going to be this… open, later, are you?"

"I don't… I don't know," Glinda choked. "I can't handle my own emotions. I need to be able to compose myself for the special dinner tonight."

"I'll still go," Dorothy said quietly.

"I'm sorry?"

"I'll go to the dinner. If you can deal with your feelings, I can handle dinner."

* * *

**A/N: So… That came out more angsty then I was originally intending. I had to have Glinda tell Dorothy. If not, the plot wouldn't be getting anywhere. Really.**

**As always, drop a review if you liked. Heck, tell me if you hated it, even. Feedback is always appreciated. **


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